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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006905">From One Nightmare to the Next</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineverwritebutwhatever/pseuds/ineverwritebutwhatever'>ineverwritebutwhatever</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Nightmare Series [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon Typical Grossness, Hurt No Comfort, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, POV swapping, Post Coma, Season 3, Self Harm, Sort Of, This is just a make Jon sad fic, This is just something I wrote because I like sadness, and I LOVE monster angst, and injury, and when I'm sad I think of sad aus, because I love him, because I say so, graphic descriptions of eyeball, i think..., scratching mostly, spoilers for that, they them pronouns for Jon, what season was it?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:08:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineverwritebutwhatever/pseuds/ineverwritebutwhatever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For a long time there are only dreams.<br/>Then a fresh statement.<br/>And the Archive wakes up, but something goes wrong, it's not enough.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Nightmare Series [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2075775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From One Nightmare to the Next</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi thanks for reading.]<br/>Please let me know what you think :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jon had been dreaming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon had been dreaming for such a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The same dreams over and over again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or, no, not dreams at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon had been having nightmares. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The nightmares didn’t belong to them though. Not in the way you would think. When someone has a nightmare, they’re the ones who experience them. The brain coming up with horrifying stories and images resulting from waking day stress, and anxiety. These were not what Jon’s dreams were. These were not visions of Jon’s creation. Jon was not even the one experiencing them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They did belong to Jon though. Jon was the one who watched. Only watching.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon could watch, experience the horror without really experiencing it. Body frozen stock still in unending horror, and fascination. The same nightmares playing in an unbroken loop. The perfect reel of regurgitated horror played for an audience of one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon had been surprised at first by how badly it hurt. They could see everything. Every detail being shown in its entirety. Each bead of terror slick sweat, each tear shed of either pain or fear. There was so much to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes quickly became dry, and pained. The flesh of them bloodshot and cracked. No matter how long it went on though, they could not blink. Couldn’t miss a single second of it, even if they wanted to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon had been scared at first. Terrified even. Their own fear almost as potent as the victims of these dreams. The pain of watching, paired with the secondhand horror of what they were being forced to witness. It had hurt so badly. And if They really thought on it, they supposed it still did. Pain and horror though can only last so long, and gave way quickly to make room for fascination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually there was only The Eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not The Eye, but Jon. The Archive. Watching, silent, and fascinated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's how it was for a long time. The nightmares would play, and Jon would watch. The same scenes of terror and heartbreak playing again and again. Nothing but that, time and time again. For so long in fact that the fascination wavered. Just slightly. The fear was dulled. Terror after all isn’t something that comes in unlimited supply. Anything can be grown used to after enough time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon still stared. But The Eye needed more. They were both growing bored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was a new voice, and for the first time since Jon had found themselves in this place, one of the eyes moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the voice continued to speak, Jon found that ever so slowly they could move again. Muscles that hadn’t been thought about, let alone used in so long suddenly coming back to life. And as this happened they realised they’d forgotten how desperately they’d wanted to move when they’d first gotten here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as every eye slowly focused in on the new voice. The fresh statement. Jon could feel themselves remembering more and more. There hadn’t been any room for anything else before. The dreams had been everything that they were. And now there was room so much more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They could remember how terrified they’d been. How they’d wanted nothing more than to help. To get helped. To break free, or even just the wherewithal to cry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d wanted to comfort the woman who was so horribly painfully alone. To dig the dirt out of the other’s mouth, or claw enough of it away that she was never buried in the first place. To save the man with the apple that was wrong, surrounded by faces that weren’t real.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To apologize to the woman that they’d once known. Her nightmare had been the strangest. The fear hadn’t been right. She was never scared in the right way, but the sadness when she looked upon them had broken their heart. When had they forgotten that it broke their heart?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each word of this new statement brought Jon further back into their body. A body that they’d forgotten even existed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>_</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then something went horribly wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Statement was what Jon had needed, yes. The Statement, and a decision to come back. The decision had been put off for far too long. Jon needed to leave what they now recognised as an unstable limbo between life and death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How ironic that a statement from an Avatar of the end would be the very thing to force Jon to come back to life. To leave their stasis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as Jon came back it became more and more clear that something wasn’t right. The statement should have been enough. The final fuel to bring them back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been too long though, and the body had just been sat vacant that whole time. The Eye knew that something had gone wrong the same time that Jon did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first breath the Archivist took was halted, and sputtered uselessly in unused empty lungs. The heart tried to beat, only for the rhythm to be off, sending cold blood moving in uneven unhelpful jerks of movement. The frozen state that it had been trapped in making the return from death painful and stilted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was supposed to be simple. A statement, a first breath, and then a return to wakefulness. However as the statement giver walked away that first breath struggled, like an insect unable to hatch from a chrysalis, trapped within itself. Limbs still half formed and unable to break free. Too early, or too late it didn’t matter, they weren’t ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Eye didn’t want to lose its Archivist. Jon didn’t want to die. If Jon was to live then the body would have to change. Something a bit more sturdy, a bit more useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was fine, The Eye already knew what it’s servants tended to look like after a time in its service. This was just skipping to the end really. A fully realized Avatar after all, was a lot more useful then what this one had been before. It would hurt, but that would just be another thing for The Eye to watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile Jon started to scream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie had been on her way to visit Jon in the hospital, when she saw something she hadn’t expected.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since Martin had stopped coming to visit it had just been her. Although it had taken her a while to notice his absence, they’d only occasionally overlapped visits. So it wasn’t odd for her to not see him for a while, but soon it was clear he wouldn’t be coming back. It made her wonder why she didn’t stop coming too. She knew that she probably should stop, it didn’t help any seeing him like that. He was too small, and only ever looked like a corpse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Georgie thought of all this as she walked, hallways becoming more and more empty as she got closer to Jon’s room. Where even though, by all rights there shouldn’t be anyone here, there was another person just leaving Jon’s room. Exiting and looking all for the world like they had any reason to be there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Georgie froze in her tracks. Even upon further examination she had no idea who this could be. Jon hadn’t known many people, let alone any who wouldn’t have already been by before. And even then she would have at least heard about them. Then the man looked up at her as she halted her approach, eyes widening in a surprise that rang hollow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those eyes. Georgie knew those eyes. Had seen ones just like them in her dreams ever since she’d told Jon about the dead woman. Ever since she’d given her statement. Those were the eyes of a dead man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie didn’t even have time to decide on a proper course of action before a blood-curdling scream ripped through the otherwise silent hospital. Completely shattering the quiet atmosphere, and the strange stare off she had been having with the dead man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound which someone else might have found terrifying only fueled the slow burning anger she’d been nursing in her chest. The rage and preemptive heartbreak she felt in the certainty that something had gone terribly wrong, fueling her as she shoved the surprised looking dead man out of her way.  Barrelling into the hospital room, ready to defend Jon from whatever horrible thing was happening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the hospital bed was Jon. Spasming wildly in what looked like agony. At first Georgie couldn’t even tell what could be happening to cause so much pain. Jon’s empty staring eyes full of rapidly falling tears, as they clawed at their surroundings, and continued to cry out. Georgie rushed forward, not knowing what to do, but knowing she should probably keep their arms still. Trying desperately to hold the flailing limbs down as Jon continued to shriek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Georgie turned around to shout for help the dead man was already gone. His absence filling her both with exasperation and relief. She didn’t know for sure if he was the one to cause this, but it did seem likely. Which probably meant she was better off with him gone. It still wasn’t nice to be the only person to deal with this though. And worse she couldn’t demand answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie had no idea how long she stood there, desperately trying to keep Jon from hurting themselves by clawing at their own skin, or falling off the bed. Calling for help that she was sure by now probably wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of this happened with absolutely no indication of what had set it off. Jon had been dead for months. Only the brainwaves, and the dreams Jon appeared in reassuring Georgie that Jon wasn’t actually gone. So why now? Why was Jon screaming like someone had lit them on fire? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie was left wondering, until the first eye opened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t believe what she was seeing at first. She wasn’t scared of course, but it was so shocking, that at first she couldn’t process what was happening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first one opened slowly, eyelids sticking to the tacky newly formed surface, as though it was thick from a long sleep. Before it started frantically jumping from thing to thing around the room. The was a bulbous, leaking thing, staring with its overblown pupol surrounded by bright almost glowing green. The gaze striking her right to her core as soon as it settled on her. It was still crying.  And Georgie was frozen until it resumed its frenzied search around the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Georgie may not be able to feel fear anymore, but she wasn’t an idiot. She leapt back, cursing. Only for more eyes to start opening. Each one seemingly ripping through the skin before joining the others in their horribly frenzied staring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the while Jon was screaming, arms now freed of Georgies grasp, instantly resuming their mad clawing. Fingernails scratching wildly at their own skin. Gouging deep into skin and sheets, digging deep as if it couldn’t decide if it wanted to claw the eyes out, or help them escape its skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two original eyes on the face, stayed that same deep brown that Jon had had. Even as they too broke out of their pained reverie and started to join the others in their search. Blind panic and pain seeming to shine out of every gaze. With all the intensity of the most fever ridden dreams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie could hardly believe how many of them there were as more and more of them seemed to rip out of the things body. The shock of the event finally wearing off enough for Georgie to begin to notice how the thing she’d thought was Jon seemed to be stretching out.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unyielding scar tissue from Jons seemingly endless injuries and the unhealed injuries from the explosion seemed to be stretching out slowly as the things' limbs grew longer and distorted. The skin ripping open once again, only to be swiftly knitted back together in a gruesome display of inhumanity. The skin stretching around the body that was now lengthening and stretching into inhuman proportions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The skin too seemed to be almost greying. The cold look that it had had becoming even more pronounced. Jons skin had been dark, and full of life, if a little bit washed out from spending too much time inside. Then it had been paler in the hospital without the flow of blood to give it life. This was nothing like that, this thing was washed out and completely inhuman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no way that this thing was Jon. Or if it had been, it wasn’t anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie stood at the edge of the room. Not really knowing what to do. She wasn’t scared, but she could feel her heart breaking as this thing that had been masquerading as her dead friend continued it’s distorted screaming and writhing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Newly formed claws scratching through the thin sheet that had lay over it, and also cutting through new skin as it continued its wild thrashing. It’s voice sounding less and less human the longer it shrieked. Tape recorders she hadn’t noticed, now sitting in the room and whirring away, recording everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie looked around the room, trying desperately to find anything that might be used as a weapon. There wasn’t much truth be told, and she wondered if it might be best to simply run. She wasn’t overly worried about any hospital staff, as if any were going to come running in they would have likely done so already. Which only meant that they apparently had more sense than her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie had already pulled her pocket knife out, by the time she decided to simply make a run for it. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to get killed here. No matter how angry she was at this monster for tricking her into mourning it like it was her friend. It was still best to run for now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she turned her back on the thing to make for the door she couldn’t help from freezing as the screaming finally stopped. Somehow the silence felt even louder. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears in the wake of the sudden quiet. She cursed herself for not making her mind up sooner, hand still poised on the doorknob, ready to run.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Georgie knew she should just run. Knew that the screaming meant that whatever had been happening to keep it insensate was over now. That it was stupid that she hadn’t left already. This thing could probably kill her. Had been pretending to be her dead friend. Might have even been the thing to kill Jon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d heard what had happened to Sasha. The coworker who had been replaced. How no one had known it had even happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Georgie turned around anyways. The thing no longer looked anything like Jon. Didn’t look anything like a person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Poor, stupid, dead Jon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Georgie felt rage and sorrow swell up in equal amounts. Knowing even with the lack of fear, that the thing was objectively horrifying to behold. It stared at her with every single eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was sat up in the hospital bed now. All of it’s focus seemingly on her. Georgie stared back, and found that she couldn’t help but draw comparisons between this monster, and the person it had for some reason decided to pretend to be for six months. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon had never been a very tall person. So even though its limbs had stretched and thinned out into horrifyingly sickly, and inhuman proportions it still wasn’t very big all things considered. It’s skin was a ghastly bleached out grey color, like someone had left it out in the sun too long, and it had faded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s scars mimicked the original placement of Jon’s to some degree, while many more had formed in it’s transformation, or been covered by its eyes. It’s long grey and black hair still looked the same as Jon’s, and the two eyes on its face that were in the right place were still that deep brown. But there was no mistaking it for anything other than a monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just sitting there, staring at her. Each and every hideous weeping eye staring straight at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>_</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything hurt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon didn’t know what was happening. There had been dreams, and then what felt like endless agony. Skin they could barely remember having had suddenly been filled with pain as the feeling of their body became ripping and tearing, and weeping. Surely this wasn’t what it was supposed to be like. Was this what having a body was like?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knowledge flooded Jon’s brain as every muscle ripped and screamed. Jon could see so much. Too much in fact, and they couldn’t understand any of it. The knowledge was simply too much, and did nothing but flood their mind with even more pain and confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually though, somehow it faded. It could have lasted for minutes or years, but it finally stopped. And Jon didn’t know where they were. The Eye tried to tell them, but it was too much again, and it stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon sat up, and saw the woman from the nightmares. The one they knew. Georgie. She was facing away from them. Her hand on the doorknob, frozen in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon stared at her, hardly able to believe that she was actually here. She looked strange when she wasn’t dreaming. Her shoulders were drawn up practically to her ears, and she was clutching a knife almost as hard as her other hand was holding the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though, with adrenaline still shooting through Jon’s veins, and confusion over clouding their mind. Jon couldn’t help the feeling of relief they felt when they saw Georgie was there. They had never had many friends if they were being honest, and even with all the strangeness that Jon’s life had become, Georgie was a rock they could cling to. She’d opened her home to Jon, and even though things hadn’t ended well when they last saw each other, Jon knew it was only because she had been worried. Understood now that she just hadn’t known what else to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Georgie was here, then things couldn’t be all bad. She’d know what happened, or even help Jon figure it out for themselves. And even if she couldn’t help, at least they wouldn’t be alone. Jon ached for her presence after so long alone, and hurt, and scared. Maybe she would even take Jon to see The Admiral.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon could feel themselves begin to cry again, this time in relief instead of terrified pain. The sudden realization that if Georgie was here, and they were in what looked like a hospital, then the world hadn’t ended. They’d actually made it. They’d stopped the apocalypse. The relief they felt couldn’t be described in words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few short seconds, Georgie finally turned around. Jon did not like the face she was making though. Her knife was still gripped in one hand, and every muscle in her body seemed coiled, and ready to strike. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like anything they could have expected. Even as their brain tried to rationalize it. Of course Georgie would be annoyed. She’d wanted Jon to get out of all of this. That’s why they’d been fighting after all. Because Jon couldn’t let go of the search for answers. But Georgie was also here. Which Jon had thought would mean that she’d forgiven them, or if not forgiven, then at least she still cared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Georgie stared back at Jon though. Her face was devoid of kindness or relief. The face that stared back at Jon was filled with so much hatred that it seemed to almost burn them. And under that was sorrow that Jon never wanted to see on anyone they cared about. Even as her mouth twisted into a hateful grimace, Jon could see the tears brimming up in her eyes. Jon began to cry for a very different reason, as a new wave of terror descended upon their heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon couldn’t understand why she was looking at them like that. Why her lips were baring unfriendly teeth, or why her eyebrows pressed so far down in rage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon couldn’t think what to say the longer their staring match seemed to go on. All they could think was how much they wanted Georgie to stop making that face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually the silence proved too much. Jon tried to speak, only to find they couldn’t. Something was wrong with their throat. The words catching on ripped tissue and coming out of a mouth that felt wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon coughed violently, unable to stop from staring at Georgie as it happened. Hoping for any comfort at all as their body failed them. That maybe somehow this was some horrible misunderstanding, and simply breaking the silence might stop whatever was happening. However as Jon silently pleaded for help, Georgie’s face only twisted into even more disgust as Jon felt what they had a horrible inkling might be drool or blood fall onto their threadbare hospital gown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon clutched at their throat, only to find that it felt wrong somehow. Their hands were wet, and as they looked at them, and saw a vision of a terrible monster peering back, Jon felt the weight of realization threatening to crush them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon looked one more time desperately at Georgie. On some level they already knew what had happened, but somehow they still wanted her to fix this. Any semblance of comfort to fight off the cold horror pooling in their veins at what they’d just seen. Georgie only looked angry though, and there was nothing comforting in how she held the knife out in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon continued to stare at her for as long as they could. However now that they’d seen it, it couldn’t be unseen. Every new horrid eyeball showing another strange reflection of themselves back now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment that was all Jon did. Shocked by how easy it was to look out of their new eyes, as they slowly took in the new awful truth of their situation. That was all there was for a long moment. Jon felt almost numb as the truth of it all settled. Even as they could feel the fear and heartbreak building into blind panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Georgie took a step back toward the door, all horrible rage and grief, and suddenly Jon could no longer stop the scream from breaking through their throat. Hands, and claws digging desperately into their throat, if they could even call it theirs now, as blind panic once again took over. Hands moving from throat to desperately reaching for Georgie, as they started to fall forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This seemed to be the final push that Georgie needed. Seeming to come to a decision as she ran from the room. Oblivious and uncaring of Jons terror, even as they tried desperately to reach out for her. For her to tell them what was going on. To say that this wasn’t real. That it was just another bad dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t come back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon could only panic further as the eye flooded their mind with information. Of what had happened. The Unknowing in all its terrible glory. The loss of Tim and Daisy, Martin and Georgie visiting their corpse, and then only Georgie. Why this had happened. The Webs involvement, and They Eye making the choice to bring them back, the statement not being enough to bring them back alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>True to the nature of The Eye. The truth was horrible, and Jon wished they didn’t know it. Newly formed claws scratching desperately at the eyes that now littered their body. Movements frenzied as they simply grew back again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Again and again, blinded, and then seeing. Blinded and seeing. Blood, and then blood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon didn’t know how long they were there in that hospital room. At some point they’d managed to fall out of the bed, and now lay on the cold floor. Surrounded by their own gore, body slick with tears and blood on the dirty tiles. Jon couldn’t remember a time they’d felt more tired. The knowledge only seemed to keep coming though. Streaming directly into Jon’s mind. It told them that they would have died in their old body. That these changes were for the best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon couldn’t help but wonder if that was true. Even when they’d made the decision to live as something not human, this had never occurred to Jon as an option. That being The Archivist would mean this. That it might have been better to stay in the dreams. To not wake up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jon curled up as they continued to weep. They knew Georgie would not be coming back anytime soon. Knew that she didn’t even think Jon was Jon anymore. Knew that no one was going to come and help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had to get somewhere safe. Where was safe though?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you enjoyed this please let me know.<br/>I've actually written more for it, but I'm not really going anywhere with this au so I don't know if anyone has an interest in that...<br/>Also if you want to chat, I'm on tumblr too, although not very often, with the same username.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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